


Forty things Ray knows about Fraser

by omphale23



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-14
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:12:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omphale23/pseuds/omphale23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the record, Fraser's got no idea how observant Ray can be. He may not lick things, but Ray's got a pretty good set of detective skills and a badge that says he knows how to use them. It's even got his real name on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forty things Ray knows about Fraser

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Queue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queue/gifts).



> This is a bit of an experiment, but [](http://nos4a2no9.livejournal.com/profile)[**nos4a2no9**](http://nos4a2no9.livejournal.com/) says that I'm not crazy and it isn't completely unintelligible and I tend to believe her. She's one of those enabling sorts of betas, which is one of the things I love about her.

For the record, Fraser's got no idea how observant Ray can be. He may not lick things, but Ray's got a pretty good set of detective skills and a badge that says he knows how to use them. It's even got his real name on it.

Fraser's not as innocent as he acts. He usually gets the jokes, the insults, the references to women and tits and things that seem funny until Fraser stands there and refuses to laugh. It's either brave or the most annoying thing Ray's ever seen. Maybe both.

He eats vanilla ice cream if you give him a choice, but really prefers blueberry cheesecake frozen custard. But only the kind with wild blueberries, and he'll never, ever ask for a scoop of it.

He could drive a sled and team by seven, but still can't manage a manual transmission without grinding out the gears at every stoplight.

He's allergic to peaches, which is something they didn't find out until Frannie's unfortunate efforts at "cobbler surprise." Some surprise.

He'd rather stay home and read Wodehouse (he snickers when Bertie Wooster makes a plan on his own) than go watch a bunch of geezers at a curling match in Evanston.

He's too kind to tell that to Turnbull.

Ray's seen more curling matches than any red-blooded Hawks fan should ever be forced to endure, and the free beer and neon-orange nachos don't make up for missing the season opener last year. Fraser feels guilty about that.

Fraser gives fantastic neck rubs. Especially when he's feeling guilty.

The color red gives him nightmares, even though he dreams in black and white. There are particular weeks that seem to be more nightmare than sleep, if Fraser's dazed look is any indication.

He talks to himself. Usually while standing in his closet. They don't mention any of the times Ray caught Fraser arguing with his dress uniform. Or any of the arguments he's lost with himself.

Fraser's too embarrassed to discuss it; Ray figures everyone's got skeletons somewhere.

Fraser's father, on the other hand, is a real pain in the ass. There are mornings when Ray's almost willing to call the cranky old priest down at his old parish to see about one of those exorcist things.

He really does think Dief talks to him, and doesn't always like what he hears. He's almost got Ray convinced that it's true.

Fraser walks everywhere because he never learned to ride a bike. Ray's offered to teach him, but he's too stubborn to try, and weirdly hesitant about looking ridiculous in public.

He likes the days Ray oversleeps and doesn't have time to shower. Fraser'd never admit it, but he smiles a little when he gets in the car and Ray still smells like the night before, like cigarette smoke and the fabric softener on his sheets. He usually manages to hide his disappointment when Ray stops to grab a quick shower between interviews.

He loves getting packages, even though he objects to the waste of packing peanuts and the cost of postage. He almost never keeps the contents, but opening the box is the sort of excitement Ray figures Fraser didn't get much as a kid.

He darns his socks with one of those little egg-shaped things, even though Ray bought him new socks last Christmas.

The sound of sirens gives him migraines in the summers. He doesn't complain, but sometimes Ray gets Thatcher to send him home early anyway. They get ice cream on the way, and a hot dog for Dief.

Fraser gets homesick.

Every once in a while he disappears, no warning and no mention of where he'll be or when he'll be back.

For a few days before he takes off, he's skittish and unhappy and spends most of their time together completely failing to pretend he's not going anywhere.

When he comes back from one of his mystery trips, Fraser walks like he's lighter, taller, got a weight lifted off his shoulders he didn't even know he was holding. It makes Ray smile almost as much as just knowing he's back.

He smells like woods and the clean dirt Ray remembers from camping trips with his cub scout troop. And a little like Murphy's oil soap.

When Fraser's having a shitty time, his first instinct is to run, not hide.

He hasn't been able to outrun Ray yet.

Most people sing when they're happy. Fraser doesn't. He sings when he's frightened, when he's unsure, when he's realized things are about to go very, very wrong.

Ray used to find Fraser's songs comforting. Fraser thinks he still does.

Fraser only knows songs that end with death, despair, or dismemberment. The least depressing ones only include amputations. Ray's not sure if that's a Canadian thing, or just something about Fraser's taste in music. Either way, it's creepy.

When Fraser's grandparents took him in, he taught himself to memorize his favorite nursery rhymes, stories, poems, eventually whole books. Just in case he lost everything again.

He hates having his picture taken.

Mostly Fraser tries to share his pemmican with everyone because, deep down where he'd never admit it, he doesn't like the stuff all that much.

He likes Ray's cow plates. Even the chipped one.

He hates Disney movies.

Except _Bedknobs and Broomsticks_.

He's scared of needles.

When he can't sleep at night, he rides the L out to Granville and sits on the rocks, watching the moonlight on Lake Michigan and singing to himself.

He keeps his money in his hatband, along with a picture of the Northern Lights clipped from an old National Geographic. It's tiny and the edges are worn and there's a crease down one side. It's another thing they don't talk about.

He's going gray around his temples but pretends he hasn't noticed.

He's in love with Ray but thinks it's a secret.

He's terrible at keeping secrets.

_Ray hasn't told him these things, but he will. Eventually. For now, he's just keeping a list._

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Ice Cream](https://archiveofourown.org/works/70713) by [omphale23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omphale23/pseuds/omphale23)
  * [Mnemonics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/70712) by [omphale23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omphale23/pseuds/omphale23)




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